


Making Do

by SXM132



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Fanille, Friendship/Love, Gen, Oerban slice of life, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14574987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SXM132/pseuds/SXM132
Summary: Looking back, it was one of the best meals they'd ever shared.





	Making Do

Oerba was quiet. It was always that way at night, when its inhabitants retreated into well-fortified communal homes to eat and spend time with loved ones. Vanille listened to the distant cry of wyvern and the hollow click of her heels against cobblestone. She advanced along the square and down to the water’s edge, stopping only when her eyes fell upon the woman she’d been searching for.

Fang sat atop a thick root at the base of an ancient tree, twirling her ankle boredly and staring out into the harbor. Ceratosaurs had become a regular nuisance after the port was rendered useless. They weren’t too much to worry about individually, but they could be real nasty in a cluster. It was best to keep an eye out for them, on the off chance that they might cause trouble for anyone in route to the seaside buildings.

Vanille watched Fang for a quiet minute before approaching.

“I didn’t see you at supper,” she said pointedly, announcing her arrival.

Fang gave a relaxed shrug. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Her jade eyes never left the water, and Vanille narrowed her gaze, her lip slightly pouted. Fang’s tells were obvious, and she knew full well why she’d skipped the meal. Rations were getting scarce in the village again.

“You know, you’re no good to anyone if you’re weak from hunger.” Vanille huffed softly, crossing her arms. “It’s bad enough that you have to stay out so late before your hunt. Whose bright idea was that, anyway? I ought to give them a piece of my mind.”

“My idea.” Fang smirked somewhat. “We’re short-staffed until Beta party returns. I can take one for the team.”

Vanille let out an exasperated sigh. “Will you _please_ at least eat, then?” Outstretching her hand she held out a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. Fang eyed the gift, then she quirked her brow and brought her gaze to the other woman’s. “Did you?” she asked.

“Of course.”

But as soon as Fang took the item and peeled back the wrapper Vanille’s stomach grumbled treasonously. She threw her arms around her abdomen and blushed, looking away while Fang made a short, victorious sort of chuckle. “Little liar.”

“I’ll eat tomorrow,” Vanille murmured. “Once the hunters are back and we take stock of what we have.”

“You’ll eat now,” Fang dismissed, and broke the pocket of bread in half. She pressed Vanille with a look when the younger woman’s mouth fell open to protest. “Take it. Or I’ll lose even more sleep tonight worryin’ about you.”

Vanille reluctantly accepted the half portion of food. She shifted to sit next to Fang, tucking herself against her side and fumbling with her end of the sandwich. She knew she should eat, but at the same time she felt too nervous to.

As soon as Beta party returned, Fang and her unit would be off to the Archylte Steppe in their stead. Leaving Vanille alone. Sleeping without her for the first time had been an absolute nightmare, but over the past year she’d become more acclimated to Fang’s disappearances; every third week of the month. Previously it had been the fourth week, back before Fang graduated from Delta party. It was truly unprecedented for a hunter to be promoted in their first year. She’d be in Beta in no time. Maybe even Alpha.

It was an honor, yes, but one that twisted Vanille’s stomach and kept her awake at night. The higher the ranking, the more dangerous the game they hunted. She’d sleep better knowing that Fang was facing off against flan and other innocuous creatures, rather than tracking sahagin through behemoth-infested wilderness.

But it was possible that she was envisioning the worst. She’d never stepped outside of the immediate area surrounding Oerba since she was a small child. She wondered what it was actually like out there. From what Fang had to say about it, life was far better at home. Which was hard to believe. They still lived with the repercussions of the day a Cocoon fal’Cie paid them a visit. Half their village leveled. One-third of their population with it. Nothing had been the same since then. The notion that some villages might have fared even worse made Vanille’s head spin. She didn’t want to think about it.

Fang, in the meantime, took her first bite of the sandwich; and was immediately alarmed by the chaotic assortment of textures and flavors accosting her taste buds. She chewed and forced her shoulders to relax, all the while assuring her gag reflex that what she was eating was indeed food. Albeit strange food. Once she’d mustered the courage to swallow she cleared her throat, blinking rapidly to clear the moisture from her eyes. “So uh - … you made this?”

Vanille, happy for the distraction, nodded with enthusiasm. “Yep! I decided to spice it up with a few secret ingredients,” she practically purred, proud of her latest recipe.

Fang speculated as to what those ‘secret ingredients’ might be. It was very plausible that they were, in actuality, whatever miscellaneous condiments she found lying in the cupboard. And maybe whatever jarred vegetable had been fermenting in the windowsill for the past several weeks.

“How is it?”

“Delicious,” Fang lied, and hid her guilt in another bite of the sandwich. It seemed edible enough. She only prayed that Vanille’s little culinary adventure wouldn’t leave her retching in the bushes during tomorrow's hunt.

“Is it really? I’m glad!” Emboldened by the appraisal Vanille took a large bite of her own half. Her expression immediately contorted, and Fang swore she saw a shiver of disgust wriggle up the girl’s spine. Her hand flew up to fan her face, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she forced herself to chew. Fang finally lost her composure and snorted with laughter. Soon Vanille was joining in as well, mature enough to admit her own folly. “This is my worst one yet, isn’t it?”

“It’s certainly up there.” Fang chuckled, eying her sandwich with a strange fondness. Even if it tasted terrible, it was so very Vanille. She loved her for it. “I’d offer to take your half but you need it. Eat up, missy.”

Vanille whined in dismay and took another bite, her legs twisting out in front of her as she fought through the experience. A breathy laugh continued to rumble through Fang’s chest, and she curled her arm around Vanille’s shoulders and squeezed. She finished her portion in a few brave mouthfuls, and when Vanille finally arrived at her own last bite she stared down at it; revelling in the feel of Fang’s warm skin against the cool breeze, the gentle cadence of nocturnal insects, and even the godawful but distinctly one-of-a-kind aftertaste of the food. She’d stay like this forever if she could.

“Hey, Fang?” Leaning into her, Vanille nuzzled against the nineteen-year-old’s shoulder with a sad sort of affection. “You’ll come home safe, right?”

“Of course I will,” Fang told her, and bent to kiss the top of her head. “How else am I going to enjoy your cooking?”

**Author's Note:**

> "She really likes cooking you know. Makes up her own meals. She's made some pretty terrible stuff though." - Fang, describing Vanille (Episode Zero, 'Search' CH03)


End file.
